


Reasons Why Darcy Is Perfect and We Hate Him UGH

by vivaglam



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivaglam/pseuds/vivaglam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An homage to William Darcy.</p><p>Random fluffy drabble. Non-chronological. Moments from LBD and beyond. As canon as possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darcy is good at knitting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place sometime post-WtS

“Come on, William! It’ll be fun. You can make something cool and surprise Lizzie!”

Gigi had always been adept at getting her way, but ever since he and Lizzie had gotten together, Gigi now had one more weapon in her arsenal to use. She only needed to mention Lizzie, and his interest would be piqued.

Gigi had just come back from Sanditon. She was planning to get her affairs in order and her belongings packed up before heading back down to her new apartment. But first, something fun - Gigi had so enjoyed learning to crochet at Craft Night in Sanditon that she wanted to learn how to knit too. She wanted to take advantage of the myriad specialty yarn shops in San Francisco, since she wasn’t sure if there was one in Sanditon. And she had the brilliant idea to make her big brother come along too. She didn’t think Lizzie would really be interested in learning, and at least it would be entertaining to see William with a pair of needles and yarn.

She didn’t honestly think William would show, but there he was, browsing inside the shop out of the heat. He was holding a few balls of single-ply merino wool in a deep emerald green.

“Hello, Gigi,” he said when he saw her. He held up the yarn. “I was thinking this would make a really nice scarf for Lizzie, for the fall.”

Gigi fought to suppress a grin. “Come on,” she said, grabbing his arm. “Let’s go make sure we can actually knit first.”

  
  


Gigi huffed in frustration. It took her a long time just to learn the basic cast-on, and after finally getting THAT right, she found that she had cast on too tightly, and now every stitch was a struggle. Her fingers were cramped and aching. How could a little ball of string be so frustrating?

She looked over at William, hoping for some sympathy. What she got was the surprise of her life - William already had about an inch and a half of neat, tidy knitting. In fact, the instructor was now teaching him the purl stitch.

“Once you can knit AND purl, you can pretty much make anything,” she was saying.

“Are you kidding? HOW is your knitting so perfect?” Gigi hissed at her brother.

William merely smirked. “For starters, I still have the same number of stitches that I started with,” he replied.

Gigi looked at her own piece. Somehow she had two extra stitches, as well as holes in a couple places. “I really wasn’t meant for this, was I?” she said grumpily.

William’s needles clicked rhythmically, pausing only whenever he had to wrap the working yarn around his right needle. “It just takes practice,” he said patiently. He was well-accustomed to his younger sister’s moods. She had been the same way when she first learned tennis.

“Not for you, apparently.”

William’s eyebrow quirked. “Well, for some more than others,” he deadpanned.

Gigi held up her needles threateningly. “Don’t make me use these!”

  
  
A few months later, when Gigi came home again for a weekend visit, she noticed Lizzie sporting a beautiful brand-new cable-knit scarf. She didn’t have to ask where she got it. Her brother’s proud smile was answer enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a list of these going. There'll be more to come!
> 
> In my head, William Darcy knits English style. Because so do I :) Also, Darcy plus Malabrigo equals sexiest EVER.


	2. Darcy is good at commanding the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place the same day as the events of Episode 80, but later in the day

Lizzie was confused.

In all honesty, she hadn’t expected much of a welcome from him at all, after everything that had happened between them, and she certainly didn’t expect kindness, but she got that anyway, last week when Gigi shoved them both into a room in front of her camera. There had been awkwardness, sure, but there was a soft light in his eyes that she had never noticed before, and his tone and expression bore no bitterness or resentment about what had passed just a few months ago.

And she definitely didn’t expect that melty feeling in her core earlier today when she asked him if he thought Bing still cared for Jane. His voice went all soft as he answered her, his gaze flickering just briefly down to her lips.

There in the conference room, tapping her pen on her notepad as she waited for the meeting to start, Lizzie was definitely feeling confused.

Darcy came into the room, and the conversations immediately quieted. Lizzie noted that he was no longer wearing the newsie hat but he had kept the red bowtie.

All eyes were on him as he spoke, including Lizzie’s. This was a different Darcy. She had seen Bored Darcy; she had seen Awkward Darcy; she had even seen Passionately-Angry Darcy and Melty-Voice Darcy. But now she was seeing CEO Darcy, and he had her full attention, along with everyone else’s.

He was discussing the development of a new app with various team leaders, and Lizzie took notes as best she could, but she couldn’t help but be awestruck at the difference between the Darcy she knew at Netherfield and the Darcy she was seeing now, who commanded respect from people even twice his age. Darcy back then had been aloof and uncomfortable, and their conversations had been (from her perspective) argumentative.

This Darcy was in his element. He spoke eloquently, taking time to compose his responses in his head before answering, and he took care not to shut anyone down or disrespect anyone’s point of view. As the meeting went on, Lizzie grew more impressed and more fascinated with the man standing at the head of the table, whose eyes would occasionally flick to hers as if he knew he was on her mind.

Lizzie shook her head and looked back down at her notepad. Yes, she was definitely feeling confused. Among other things.


	3. Darcy is good at dyeing hair.

“LIZZIE!!!!”

Lydia’s voice echoed as she paced down the hallway of the San Francisco apartment where Lizzie now lived with Darcy. Lydia was there for a few days to visit.

A door opened, and out stepped Darcy, in glasses and a t-shirt and (what were probably very expensive) jeans. Even though Lydia had visited quite a few times since Lizzie moved in with him, it was still strange to see him dressed so casually.

“May I help you, Lydia? Lizzie got called into the office for a work emergency,” he said, sipping his coffee.

“It’s okay, it’s no big. She was gonna help me dye my hair. It’s kind of our thing.”

“Oh, I can help with that,” Darcy said solicitously.

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “You can?”

Darcy’s mouth betrayed the slightest hint of a smile. “I have a younger sister too, you know.”

Lydia looked dubious. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t wanna bother you or anything.”

“Well, Lizzie might be a while. She told me she’s not sure what time she’ll be back.”

“Um, okay…”

 

That is how Lydia found herself, twenty minutes later, seated in the guest bathroom with Darcy’s hands all up in her hair.

She thought it would be totes awkward, to have her sister’s boyfriend doing her hair, but oddly enough, Darcy put her at ease, chatting with her about this and that, randomly spouting off trivia about hair dye that he knew. ( _Of course_ Darcy knew random trivia about hair dye. For some reason, it made perfect sense.)

What was also strange was that he was very good at it too, and very careful about not spilling the dye solution anywhere on the bathroom floor or on her. Lizzie could always be counted on to stain the countertop a little bit, and there would be the occasional patch on her scalp. But Darcy was quite meticulous - if he weren’t already a hugely successful media mogul, she would suggest that he become a hugely successful hair stylist.

Lizzie got back just as he was finishing up.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” she asked, poking her head into the bathroom.

Darcy peeled off his gloves and tossed them in the wastebasket, and Lizzie gave him a kiss as she handed him a cup of coffee. “Just helping your sister with her hair.”

“Seriously?” Lizzie was amused.

Lydia stood, unwrapping the towel from her shoulders. “Yeah, sis. And you know what? He’s better at it than you.”

“Oh really?” Lizzie raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I think you’ve just been replaced as the hair dye sibling.”

“Except that you and William aren’t siblings,” Lizzie retorted, sticking her tongue out at Lydia.

“Um, but we WILL be once you--” Lydia cut off her sentence, looking scandalized, but neither Lizzie nor Darcy seemed fazed. In fact, they seemed to be making googly eyes at each other.

“Gross, you guys, get a room!” she said, pushing them both out of the bathroom and shutting the door and running the shower.

Of course she was teasing - in truth, she was thrilled that Lizzie was no longer perpetually single. Yup, Darcenator seemed like a keeper. Lydia genuinely hoped he was here to stay - and not just because her hair looked fabulous.


	4. Darcy is good at keeping secrets for other people.

Darcy was surprised to receive a phone call from Bing in New York, but not surprised at what he had to say.

“I think this is it. I’m going to ask Jane to marry me,” he said, inspecting his friend’s face over the Domino interface for any sign of disapproval.

Darcy’s expression showed nothing but happiness for his friend. “I think that’s wonderful news. You two have been living together for almost a year, and you seem happier than ever.”

“I am. And I think she is too,” Bing said. “I would have asked her sooner, but I wanted to be absolutely sure she would say yes.”

“And you’re sure now?”

“Well, we’ve talked about it a bit. And she really seems to be settling down at her current job, and everything is going well for her - I think now is a good time.”

“Then you should go for it.”

“So then I have your blessing?” Bing said hopefully.

“Do you need it?”

Bing pondered this, and then smiled. “No, but I’d like to know that I have it all the same.”

“Then you better get to it. Good luck.”

 

A week later, Lizzie came bursting into the bedroom, a smile plastered on her face.

“Bing proposed!” she said in a singsong voice. “I just got off the phone with Jane. They’re engaged!”

Darcy looked up from his book, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That’s great,” he said sincerely, smiling at Lizzie’s radiant smile.

“Bing took her out to dinner, and for dessert, they brought out a box of _gourmet snickerdoodles,_ and the engagement ring was tied on top with ribbon…” Lizzie’s voice trailed off as she looked at her boyfriend’s face. “Wait a minute.” She leaned in closer, taking his glasses of his face and looking into his eyes. Darcy bit his lip and looked away, but Lizzie grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look directly at her. “YOU KNEW ABOUT THIS.”

A grin broke out on his face as Lizzie bounced on the bed in mock anger, yelling, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! I even mentioned a couple days ago that Jane was excited about going out to dinner tonight with Bing and you didn’t even say a word! Traitor!”

He finally decided to set his book aside on the nightstand, and instead he scooped Lizzie into his arms and laid her down on the bed. Lizzie immediately went still as he propped himself up gently over her body. “It wasn’t for me to tell,” he said huskily. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to have to make it up to me,” Lizzie said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to manage,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers.

Their kiss was interrupted when Lizzie suddenly pulled away. “Wait, what ELSE are you keeping from me?” she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Absolutely nothing,” he replied, leaning down to kiss her again. He grinned, thinking of the small velvet box he had hidden deep in his own closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always loved this exchange between Darcy and Bingley from the 1995 version. I wanted to incorporate it somehow.


	5. Darcy is good at remembering to keep his thumb OUTSIDE his fist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My assumed timeline for this story: 
> 
> LBD episode 87 aired Monday morning.  
> It was seen by both Darcy and Gigi that same day.  
> Domino episode 5 was recorded Monday afternoon-ish.  
> This story takes place Tuesday, after ep 5 aired.  
> (And then both LBD episode 88 and Domino episode 6 were recorded the next day, Valentine’s Day.)

_“... so help me, I will rain legal brimstone down on you so hard, it will make GOD jealous.” - Abbie Mills, Sleepy Hollow_

 

Of _course_ he could’ve just sent a lawyer to take care of the website - he could’ve sent a TEAM of lawyers. And in fact, that's what he did - his lawyers were right now taking care of Novelty Exposures. He didn’t have to take the trouble of looking for George Wickham himself. But he wanted to.

After watching Lizzie’s video earlier that day, seeing her tears and her pain, as well as Lydia’s, with the memory of his own sister’s suffering still fresh in his mind, there was nothing more he wanted than to put George in the ground. (Well, there was ONE thing he wanted more, but he couldn’t allow himself to think about that now.) While it was true that Darcy himself felt responsible for not exposing George much earlier, he definitely wanted to put the blame where blame was due.

It was the middle of the day, and no one was around at the small beachside motel that he pulled up to. All the better. It wasn’t particularly fancy, and there was no security around.

He stepped into the motel’s front office, where a college-aged girl sat at the receptionist’s desk.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her smile turning flirtatious as she took in his features and expensive-looking clothing.

He stepped up to the counter and looked directly in her eyes. In a velvety voice, he said, “I’m supposed to be meeting my brother here, but he didn’t tell me what room he was in, and he’s not answering his phone. Do you think you could look him up for me?” He forced the corners of mouth into a faint smile.

The girl blushed and stammered a bit. “Um,  what’s his name?”

If only he could have done this with Lizzie, he thought. “George Wickham,” he said, looking at her intensely.

The girl took three tries to type George’s name correctly into her computer. “Room 108,” she said, smiling widely. “Would you like a key?”

“That would be wonderful,” Darcy replied. “Thank you.” He made sure that his fingers brushed hers when she handed it to him.

Once outside, he was all business as usual. He could see room 108 across the small parking lot, and decided to observe a bit before barging right in, which was a good thing since just then, George was leaving his room with an ice bucket. He waited until George was out of sight before slipping silently into the hotel room. He rolled up his sleeves as he waited.

George returned a moment later, and was visibly startled once he noticed the dark, looming figure perched on the shabby hotel chair near the door. He blurted out an expletive and nearly dropped the bucket of ice as he backed up against the opposite wall.

“Hello, George,” Darcy said evenly.

“Darcy.” To his credit, George met Darcy’s glare directly. But he stayed where he was and didn’t move closer.

Darcy looked at George expectantly.

“Darcy, it wasn’t my fault.”

No response.

“It was STOLEN. I’m just as upset about this as she is,” he said defensively.

Calmly, Darcy folded his arms in front of him. “I suppose that’s why it’s your signature all over the paperwork that gave away the universal rights to the video?”

George paled, but spoke with bravado. “And what do you think you’re going to do about it?”

Darcy stood up slowly. “I don’t have to do anything about it. I have lawyers taking care of it as we speak.”

George said nothing as he processed Darcy’s response. “So then why are you here? You just feel like rubbing it in? Tell me that you’ve won?” He paused as something dawned on him. “OH. I see. You’re here because of _her_.”

Darcy said nothing, but his face darkened in a way that spoke volumes.

Sensing an in, George pressed on. “It’s pathetic how much trouble you’re going through for a girl who completely hates you,” he taunted, stepping towards Darcy. “You know you totally picked the wrong Bennet, right? Little sisters are so much _easier_ …”

Darcy heard a crack as his knuckles connected with George’s jaw. George staggered backwards against the wall, spitting out a mouthful of blood onto the dusty hotel carpet. Before he could right himself, Darcy had stepped forward and pinned him to the wall by his throat.

In a voice so calm that it was eerie, Darcy murmured as George started to gag, “You will stay away from their family, and you will stay away from mine. If I ever hear of you hurting _anyone_ again, _ever_ , I will hurt  _you_. In ways that are worse than death." He saw the defeat enter George's eyes and released him.

George fell to the floor, coughing and wheezing. Darcy was out the door before George could even get up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little wish fulfillment. But hey, that's what this entire fic is anyhow :)


	6. Darcy is good at making breakfast.

Lizzie yawned and stretched luxuriously in bed, the memories of the previous evening, her first night spent with Darcy at his home, flooding back as she slowly awoke from a pleasant night’s sleep.

Rolling over, she found that she was alone in his bed, but the tell-tale aroma of bacon hanging in the air told her everything she needed to know. Unable to locate exactly everything she had been wearing last night (how DID her bra end up on the curtain rod?), she settled for his shirt instead, and padded down the hall to the kitchen.

She peered around the corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of her boyfriend in his element. He was standing at the sink, his (sexy, finely-muscled) back to her, rinsing a frying pan. Behind him on the table was a tray of delicious-looking breakfast food. She could hear the Beatles coming from his speakers.

_“I’m in love for the first time… don’t you know it’s gonna last…”_

Lizzie sneaked up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist. “Good morning!”

He startled as her fingers brushed his bare abdomen. “Lizzie,” he said, smiling as he took in her small frame in his large shirt. He shut off the faucet and dried his hands before turning around in her arms and bending down for a leisurely kiss. Lust and love flaring, Darcy lifted her up and set her down on the kitchen table, her legs curling neatly around his hips as the sensual bassline of the song throbbed around them.

Finally forcing his mouth to part from hers, he said in a breathless voice, “Good morning. I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.” He gestured to the tray next to her.

There was bacon, of course, as well as eggs and fresh gourmet coffee. Darcy had also sliced strawberries, and he made chocolate chip pancakes as well.

“I know it’s a lot,” he said, unnecessarily apologetic, “but this is your first morning here with me, and I wanted it to be special.”

Lizzie smiled and wrapped her arms around him tighter. “You’re amazing. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“I feel the same about you,” he said seriously, looking into her eyes before pressing his lips to hers again.

They decided to eat at the table after all, and many compliments were bestowed upon the chef. The bacon was just the right amount of crispiness, and Lizzie had never eaten strawberries topped with yogurt and brown sugar before - it was divine. All of it was.

“I should’ve had you make me breakfast a long time ago,” she murmured appreciatively.

Once they were finished, Darcy started clearing the table. Lizzie stood up. “I’m going to hop in your shower,” she announced.

“I’ll just clean up, then,” he replied, missing her point.

“Are you sure?” Lizzie said, her voice heavy with meaning. Darcy caught the Look she gave him before she turned around and started sashaying back to his bedroom.

For a minute, he could only watch her, appreciating the view, especially when she unbuttoned his shirt and let it slide off her shoulders onto the hallway rug, revealing just her bare back and her black lace bottoms. She disappeared into his room, closing the door gently behind her. Darcy was in the middle of deciding whether or not to finish clearing the table when the bedroom door opened again a few seconds later, just wide enough for something tiny and black to shoot down the hallway, ricocheting off the wall. Darcy only stared its scalloped-lace edging for a split second before bolting down the hallway.

It would be several hours before the breakfast dishes were finally washed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Don't Let Me Down" is possibly my favorite Beatles song. I find it UNBEARABLY sexy.


	7. Darcy is good at forgiving. Part 1.

The interim between when Darcy returned to Pemberley and when Lizzie finally moved to San Francisco was a difficult one. In the past, at least, he could see her and keep up with her life through her videos. But now that her videos were over and she was busy finishing up her degree, he didn’t even have that. He had to settle for phone calls, texts, and emails.

Darcy purposely scheduled a lot of business trips to help the time pass more quickly (as there was still a part of him that hoped he’d find Lizzie wandering the hallways at Pemberley, as irrational as it was, and this made his days at work hard to bear). One particular weekend, two weeks before Lizzie’s graduation, brought him to Los Angeles.

He was at a bar - he had just had a difficult client dinner. The only thing that would have made him feel better was to talk to Lizzie, but because he knew she was already busy and stressed, he didn’t want to bother her, so he settled for drinking alone instead.

Well, not quite alone.

“Darcy?” said a smooth, female voice next to him.

He saw her long, glossy black hair before he saw her face. Even so, there was no mistaking who it was.

“Hello, Caroline,” he replied neutrally.

“Are you here alone?” she asked. She cast a glance around the room. Whom she thought she was looking for, Darcy had no idea.

“Yes, I’m in town for business,” he replied. “You may join me, if you wish.”

Caroline took a seat on the stool next to him, her long, tanned legs gleaming as she swiveled around. She was impeccably-dressed as always. Caroline was beautiful, yes, but he’d never really been attracted to her. There was nothing about her that drew him in the way there was with Lizzie.

Caroline was wary. She had since made her apologies to Bing and Jane about the role she had played in the events of the past year, but of course, Bing was her brother and Jane was the most forgiving person she’d ever met (other than her brother). She could count on them to be kind.

Darcy, however, was a different story. He was in no way obligated to forgive her or even be kind to her. But still, she hoped. He had, after all, invited her to join him.

“So, how are you?” she asked quietly. She sipped her drink without making eye contact with him.

“I’m well.” Darcy was aware that Caroline was much more subdued than she used to be. “How are things for you?” he asked politely.

“I was just in New York last week, visiting Jane and Bing. They’re doing very well.”

“That’s good,” Darcy replied rather awkwardly. “I just spoke to Bing the other day, myself.”

It wasn’t much of a conversation, but Caroline supposed she was lucky that Darcy was speaking to her at all. There were feelings that lingered just under the surface - before, she had always liked the idea of her and Darcy, had felt they would go well together. Now she no longer _longed_ for him. Rather, she longed for that time in her life - she would rather live with an unrequited crush than spend her days feeling like everyone she had been close to now hated her. Particularly because she didn’t have that many people she was close to.

“How’s Lizzie?” she asked lamely. Not that she had a right to ask.

If Darcy was offended by her question, he did not show it. “She’s doing well. Her graduation is in two weeks,” he said smoothly. “I believe Bing and Jane will be in town for it.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Caroline sipped her drink, reflecting on how Darcy used to be the one person who understood her, the one she could talk to, and now they couldn’t even carry on a decent conversation. And it had been her own doing.

That left only one thing to be said. “Look, Darcy,” she began. “I have to apologize.”

Darcy’s eyebrow raised slightly, though he didn’t interrupt.

“I’m sorry for the part I played in everything that has happened this past year - with Lizzie and with my brother. If it weren’t for me, maybe things could have gone differently and you wouldn’t have been put in such a difficult position…” She downed the rest of her cocktail.

Darcy was staring at his own drink, contemplating her words. “You are right,” he said, pausing to sip his scotch. Caroline felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Things would have gone differently. Maybe Lizzie would’ve come around sooner without your encouraging her to hate me, and maybe Jane and Bing wouldn’t have broken up if you hadn’t…” His voice trailed off, not wanting to put her transgression into words, because years of friendship had taught him how to sense the sadness in Caroline Lee’s eyes, even when it didn’t show on the rest of her face. He did not want to add to it.

Caroline braced herself for imminent scolding. But it never came.

“But I believe that everything happens for a reason,” he continued. “I can’t say that I would be as happy as I am now if things had happened differently, nor could I say that about your brother. I think we all did a lot of learning this year,” he said thoughtfully.

Caroline’s eyes finally met his then. They glimmered even in the dim lighting of the bar.

Darcy stood up, ordered Caroline another, and paid his tab. “I forgive you,” he said, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Good night.” And then he was gone.

Darcy would be returning to his hotel room then, to call the woman he loved and relish the sound of her voice. Caroline, on the other hand, would remain there on her stool for at least a few more hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Music is playing in the background at the bar while they're talking, and it's Tegan & Sara's "How Come You Don't Want Me Now?"


	8. Darcy is good at holding his liquor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assume that the events of episodes 59 and 60 take place on Friday, October 26 - the events of the story take place later that same day.

In many ways, William Darcy was the best drinking partner AND the worst drinking partner.

He was the best drinking partner because he could always be counted on to keep his head, and when he was drunk, he didn’t change much - he didn’t get violent or creepy or obnoxious. He was still Darcy, but a little more at ease, the alcohol doing little to dull his sharp sense of humor.

But he was also the worst drinking partner in that it took a LOT to get him drunk. Darcy was not a “cheap” anything, and he was definitely _not_ a cheap drunk. If one had the misfortune of trying to engage him in a drinking competition without knowing this fact, one would probably wake up the following morning missing a few bills and a few hours from one’s life. At the moment, it was this latter aspect that was causing Darcy problems.

“You were unaware? Then why don’t you watch my VIDEOS?”

Settled in the armchair in his hotel room, Darcy sipped his scotch as he replayed the scene in his mind. His face was burning, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or the embarrassment of learning that not only had he been rejected by the woman he loved, but also that she had spent the past few months spilling her hatred for him all over the Internet.

In one smooth movement, Darcy got up and walked over to the wet bar, where he poured himself some more. He eyed his laptop sitting on the desk across the room. Sleek and silver, with its power light pulsing gently to indicate its slumber, it looked innocuous, but Darcy’s eyes bore into it as if it posed him some kind of threat. In a way, it did.

He threw back the contents of his glass and loosened his tie before grabbing the entire bottle. It was going to take much more than a glass to get through this.

 

Seven videos later, he was drunk and sitting cross-legged on his bed. But not drunk enough for his liking.

Not drunk enough to take the edge off the humiliation as Lizzie had recounted The Most Awkward Dance Ever (her words, though he wouldn’t have disagreed, drunk or sober). Not drunk enough to ignore the desire that bloomed at her teasing smiles and her expressive eyes. Not drunk enough to keep from being amused at the various costume theater portrayals.

_Definitely_ not drunk enough to keep going right now. Looking ahead at the dozens of videos that awaited him, he knew that it was only going to get worse. Those were going to have to wait for another day.

Closing his laptop, he leaned back against the headboard. Despite all the alcohol, he was still alert and still able to think entirely too clearly. He had watched each video, pausing to adore her beauty and her humor at numerous points (even when she was disparaging him), taking far longer to watch each video than he should’ve. He was still hurt, still angry, but still very much in love with her. And no amount of drinking would be able to take that away right now.

How much HAD he had? Looking around, he couldn’t find the bottle at first, and there was a moment of panic that he had, in fact, finished the whole thing. But further excavation revealed that it was hiding under the desk, where he had previously been sitting.

He brought the bottle to his lips, but then hesitated. Instead of taking another sip, he walked steadily to the bathroom sink and poured the rest of it out before finally stripping off his clothes, turning off the lights, and crawling into bed.

He was definitely not drunk enough to prevent the visions of Lizzie that were sure to creep into his dreams, but he wasn’t so sure that he wanted to be.


	9. Darcy is good at forgiving. Part 2.

Darcy sighed. He was tired.

Last night had been a late night, culminating in a last-minute flight to LA that morning for an important series of meetings. After having spent all day in conference room after conference room, the only thing keeping him going was the fact that he was about to meet Gigi for dinner.

He checked his phone. It was odd - he had texted her earlier that day between meetings about getting dinner, but she had never replied (and Gigi ALWAYS replied). Luckily, he had a key to her condo, so even if she wasn’t home, he could at least crash on her couch a little bit - it was closer for him to drive straight over rather than go to his hotel. He texted her again on the way over. Still no reply. As he approached the front door, keys in hand, he could hear loud music playing. It’s possible that she just hadn’t been able to hear her phone, and he hoped he wouldn’t catch her in an awkward situation.

As he opened Gigi’s door, the first thing that hit him was not the deafening music coming from her stereo, but the scent - the living room smelled masculine, like male shampoo and sneakers.

“Gigi?” he called out in confusion. As far as he knew, Gigi wasn’t even casually dating anyone, let alone inviting anyone home.

He got his answer as her bedroom door burst open, and a familiar blond man came out, shirtless and toweling his hair, with Gigi in tow.

“William!” Gigi gasped, her eyes widening. To his credit, George Wickham seemed completely unfazed.

  
  


The Darcys had always been a passionate bunch, but Darcy had always been good at keeping his emotions contained, even in the worst of moments. (And he had definitely encountered some of the worst possible moments one would ever expect to encounter, and at a young age.) Gigi, on the other hand, never held back, whether she was happy or sad.

In this case, she was angry. Darcy heard the door slam as George made off with his check, but his eyes were on Gigi. Her eyes were quickly filling with tears, but he could tell by the way her mouth twisted that they were not tears of sadness, and he braced himself for the fury that would follow.

  
  


Two weeks later, Darcy stood in his bedroom in San Francisco, packing his suitcase for another business trip.

 _We were_ in love, _William. What would you know about love? You lead a miserable, empty existence, and you just want me to be miserable and empty like you._

While Darcy admitted (to himself, at least) that handing George that check hadn’t been one of his prouder moments, he stood by his actions.

_You can’t control who I love, William. You can’t tell me who I can date. You’re not Dad. You aren’t half the man Dad was._

However, it didn’t mean that her words hadn’t hurt. He winced, remembering. She had forcibly shoved him out her door and hadn’t spoken to him since.

_I wish it had been you that died, instead of them. I would trade you in a heartbeat if it meant I could have Mom and Dad back instead._

However, just then, he heard footsteps come down down the hallway towards his room, and he knew it was her.

“William…?” Gigi’s voice sounded timid and hoarse. She was carrying an overnight bag.

Darcy put down the pants he had been folding and took a few cautious steps toward his baby sister. He didn’t want to crowd her, but he wanted her to know that he was there if she needed him. But the sight of her lower lip trembling and the tears threatening to spill from her eyes sent him running those last few steps toward her.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I’m SO sorry.”

Darcy just held her tightly.

  
  


Eventually her sobs quieted, and Gigi followed Darcy to the kitchen where he made them tea.

A framed photo of their family stared back at her from atop the island where she sat. It was from when they were kids. Tall even at an early age, William was standing in front of his parents, beaming proudly with his arm around Toddler Gigi. Gigi, true to form, was making a squinchy face and sticking her tongue out at the camera.

Darcy stood leaning against the countertop behind her, sipping his mug in silence.

“You were right,” she finally said. “About George, I mean. Even afterward, I tried to convince myself that maybe he regretted taking the money. I’ve been calling him and texting him…” she stopped and took a shaky breath. “He never picked up and never responded.”

“I’m sorry,” Darcy said quietly, putting a comforting hand on his sister’s shoulder.

“No, don’t,” Gigi said. “I’M the one who should be sorry. I mean, I AM sorry.”

Darcy sat down next to Gigi, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I’m such an idiot,” she continued. “I believed him when he told me he needed me. I really thought he loved me.”

“George has shown himself to be incapable of loving anyone but himself. And that’s not a reflection on you, but on him,” Darcy replied softly.

Gigi sat up suddenly and looked her brother squarely in the face. “I’m sorry about the things I said to you, William.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “I didn’t mean them. I was just angry.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Darcy murmured, perturbed at the tears streaming down his sister’s face again. He reached up to place a comforting hand on her shoulder again, but she stopped him.

“No, I’m serious, William. You have to understand. You have to know that you mean the world to me, and I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you as a big brother. I shouldn’t have said… what I said. I don’t wish you were… d-d-dead...”

Darcy wrapped his arms around his sister as her sobs started again.

“I know, Gigi. I know,” he murmured. “It’s okay. I know.”

“I thought he loved me. I loved him so much, William. Why didn’t he love me back?”

Darcy sighed. He made a mental note to make some calls later to reschedule his meetings. There was something infinitely more important that he needed to take care of right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life got pretty busy, but I never forgot this one! Now that I've got a little time for my holiday break, I think I will finish out the last few chapters. Thank you to everyone who has read this (or who is reading it now, for the first time).


	10. Darcy is good at forgiving. Part 3.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Have the hills of San Francisco forgiven you yet?"  
> "I hope so. I apologized for being super mean to them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place the morning after Lizzie’s birthday. Despite what I’ve written in previous fics, in this one they do not sleep together/spend the night together immediately.

Darcy awoke in his hotel bed feeling more refreshed than ever, despite the fact that he had lain awake half the night. As usual, it had been thoughts of _her_ keeping him up, but this time, instead of nervousness or longing, it was love.

As he showered, he thought of her - the softness of her lips, the ruby glow of her hair, the gentle, tentative way she laced her fingers with his. The only thing that kept him from being convinced that it had all been a dream was that, up until that very second, the scent of her had lingered on his skin.

His phone chimed as he was adjusting his tie, and he smiled as he read the message.

_Is it too early to see you? Are you awake? Of course you’re awake. You’re probably already dressed and ready for the day._

He dialed her number and she picked up on the first ring.

“Heeey,” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice.

“Hello, Lizzie. How are you today?”

“I am great. I was wondering if you wanted to go get some breakfast?”

Darcy smiled. “I would love to. I’ll be over in ten minutes?”

“Um…” Darcy could hear Mrs. Bennet’s voice in the background just then. “Why don’t I come over there and pick you up instead?” Lizzie offered.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Darcy noticed what time it was as he hung up - 9:10am. And he suddenly remembered. He had a few minutes to kill, so he flipped open his laptop and checked his YouTube subscriptions page for a specific video, and hit play.

  
  


There she was, just as he had seen her the night before.

Darcy was only momentarily perplexed by Lizzie’s introduction before he remembered that Charlotte had been there when he’d arrived. He chuckled to himself at her teasing smile. But his amusement gave way to a different feeling as her video progressed.

_Am I disappointed that I didn’t hear from Darcy? Yes. But I don’t know why I expected to hear from him. I have no reason to expect ANYTHING from him. It’s not like he owes me anything - he’s already done so much. And maybe… he doesn’t want anything to do with me…_

Darcy’s expression turned to dismay at the sight of the sadness in her eyes.

_… I’m getting the brush-off. And that’s fine… because he deserved more from me…_

He felt the guilt creeping in, knowing that it was because of him ( _again_ ) that she was upset, when the chime of the doorbell in her video reminded him that he knew how this would end, and that Lizzie wasn’t sad anymore.

_Second chances are rare. I think I used all mine up._

Darcy had to admire Charlotte’s choice to end the video when she did, mirroring the very first time he appeared on Lizzie’s videos. Thinking back to that day, and how that day had ended, he marveled at how far they had come since then.

There was a knock at the door, and suddenly she was in his arms.

“Good morning to you too,” she managed to say, before his mouth met hers.

Darcy was normally one to show a little more restraint, especially at the beginning of a relationship, but with Lizzie’s sad face from the video fresh in his memory, he crushed her to his body, as if the strength of his kiss could reach back in time and wipe it all away. Without removing his mouth from hers, he lifted her up, pulling her legs around his waist.

It was Lizzie who pulled away first. It was only because he had to, and not because he wanted to, that he slowly released her, her toes eventually touching the floor.

“Wow,” Lizzie said breathlessly. “That was some kiss.”

She caught a glimpse of laptop behind him on the bed, still open to YouTube, and understood.

“You watched today’s video,” she said sheepishly.

“Lizzie, if I had had any idea that you felt the way you did, I would’ve tried to come here sooner,” Darcy explained, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “I just had so many meetings…”

“Hey, it’s okay. As you can see,” she said, touching her nose to his, “everything turned out fine.

“Besides, why are you apologizing?” she continued. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“Lizzie…”

Lizzie took a deep breath, sitting down next to him. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” she began. “And… I just… what it comes down to is that I owe you an apology. Many apologies, for all the awful things I said about you both on and off the Internet, before I really got to know you. I can’t even watch most of those old videos anymore without cringing.”

Darcy could see some of the same sadness returning to her eyes, and he stopped her before she could continue.

“Lizzie… I told you before, I don’t care about any of that,” he said, gently tilting her face up so he could look in her eyes. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“It bothers me,” she said earnestly. “I was… rude at best, and at worst, I was even cruel. How could you not be mad about that?”

“Because it was true,” Darcy said simply. “I behaved badly too. When I first watched your videos… I will be honest and say that it hurt, but as I also told you, they were illuminating. Until that day, when we… spoke… I was so sure of myself, so convinced of your feelings for me that when you told me how you actually felt, I was completely taken aback. Your videos gave me a new perspective on everything, and they changed me for the better. I knew that even if you could never love me, I could at least be a better person because of you. If it weren’t for your videos, I’d have continued living my life as a pompous, stuck-up newsie,” he added lightly, stroking her cheek.

Lizzie smiled. “So you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he said seriously.

He kissed her again, more slowly and tenderly this time. Her mouth opened under his, and he felt himself gently pulling her down beside him on the bed…

Lizzie pulled away, breathing hard. “Hey, there’ll be plenty of time for that later,” she said, her voice full of promise. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

Smiling, Darcy took her hand, pulling her to her feet, and did not let go for most of the rest of the morning.


	11. Darcy is good at painting.

“It’s your birthday, as well as our three-year anniversary,” Darcy was saying one morning as he was shaving in front of the bathroom mirror. “I’d like to take you somewhere special.”

Lizzie suddenly appeared in the bathroom next to him, in just a camisole and briefs. “What did you have in mind?” she said, taking the razor out of his hand and taking over shaving duties.

Darcy smiled. “Oh, perhaps somewhere warm and tropical? Somewhere we can really get away from everything?” he said hopefully running a finger along her thigh.

Lizzie pressed a towel to his face, dabbing away the leftover shaving cream. “Oh, William, I wish I could, but we’ve got a big launch that week. There’s no way I can even take a day off, let alone leave the country.”

At the sight of Darcy’s pouty face, Lizzie smiled and pressed her lips to his. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. I really want to go somewhere with you, sometime, when everything settles down. For now, we’ll have to content ourselves with something local.”

“Okay,” he said grudgingly. “I’ll think of something.”

  


“This is… not what I was expecting,” Lizzie said smilingly as their taxi pulled up outside a local pub.

“I thought we’d try something different this time,” Darcy said, tucking his chin to his neck.

Lizzie noticed, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she squeezed his hand reassuringly as they stepped inside…

Rows of tables were lined up with an easel set up at each seat. Other patrons were walking around with their drinks, wearing bright green aprons stained in various colors.

Lizzie got very excited. “Paint Nite???” she squealed happily. “You signed us up for Paint Nite?”

Pleased with her reaction, Darcy smiled a little smugly. “Not just any Paint Nite,” he said, nodding toward the example painting on display. “Since we couldn’t go on an island vacation ourselves…”

Lizzie’s eyes brightened at the beach scene. “... we’ll just create our own,” she finished. “This is great. I love this. I love YOU,” she added, kissing him.

“I love you too, Lizzie Bennet,” Darcy replied. “Happy birthday.”

“And happy anniversary,” she added, grinning.

  


They took their seats. For whatever reason, Darcy insisted on sitting opposite her instead of next to her.

“I see how it is,” Lizzie teased. “You don’t want to be intimidated by my superb artistic skills.”

Darcy was definitely feeling intimidated, but for reasons having nothing to do with art. He merely pulled his chin into his neck as he sat down and waited for the class to start. Lizzie was confused, but said nothing.

As it turned out, the class was very fun and relaxed. The instructor walked them through the basics of brush strokes and paint mixing, and layer by layer, Lizzie’s canvas started to resemble the example painting.

“Hey, I’m pretty good at this!” Lizzie beamed proudly. Darcy, focusing extra hard on his own painting, gave only a hint of a smile.

“You’re taking this extra seriously,” Lizzie observed. “I bet yours is awesome. Can I see?” She started to stand.

Darcy seemed momentarily panicked. “Well, um… um… I’ll show it to you when I’m finished,” he said. Lizzie pouted and sat down. What was going on with him?

The instructor passed by behind Darcy. Lizzie saw his eyes widen, but he didn’t say anything other than “Nice job” before walking away.

Finally they reached the end of their lesson, and the instructor was taking pictures of the patrons with their finished paintings. Lizzie excused herself to use the restroom. “I think I got paint on my elbows somehow,” she said, laughing. “I don’t even know how that happened.”

The minute she disappeared around the corner, Darcy moved his painting and easel to another table separate from the rest of the class and signaled for the instructor to come over with his camera.

“Now?” the instructor said excitedly.

Darcy took a deep breath. “Yes.” The other patrons, catching a glimpse of his painting, excitedly gathered around.

When Lizzie came out of the restroom, she was greeted with quite a sight - half the bar was gathered around in a semicircle behind Darcy, who was standing nervously with his arms behind his back. On the table next to him was his painting, the same beach scene as everyone else’s…

… except for one thing. Written in the sand in his painting were words.

_Will you marry me?_

Lizzie’s eyes widened as she read them on his painting. She looked back and forth between Darcy and his painting, not sure whether what she was seeing was real.

She got her answer a second later, as Darcy sank down on one knee, pulling a small velvet box out from behind him.

“Elizabeth Bennet,” he began, but got no further, as he was suddenly and swiftly attacked by a flurry of red hair and soft lips and sweet-smelling skin.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” Lizzie said in between kisses. “Yes, I will marry you. I will. I will.” And pressed her lips to his again.

The roar of applause and cheers rose from the crowd as Darcy and Lizzie slowly stood, and they broke apart just long enough for him to slide the ring on her finger.

The instructor was snapping pictures of them. “Can we get you two to pose in front of the painting?”

Darcy and Lizzie obliged. Eyes full of happy tears, Lizzie laughed as she examined Darcy’s painting more closely. “Oh my god, you even shaded it to make it look like it was really written in the sand. Your painting is actually really good.”

Now that the hard part was over, Darcy could smile. “It was an important moment. I wanted to make the effort.”

Lizzie smiled. “I love you so much,” she said gazing intensely into his eyes.

“I love you. You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, Lizzie Bennet,” he said before kissing her again.

“Shall we go home and celebrate…?” Lizzie said suggestively.

“I would like that,” Darcy grinned.

Just then, the instructor announced that he would be posting all the pictures from that evening’s class on their Paint Nite Facebook page the next day.

“Well, I think there’s something we should do first,” Lizzie said thoughtfully.

“You mean, call everyone we know so they find out from us first and not through social media?” Darcy smirked.

“Yes,” Lizzie laughed.

Interlacing their fingers, they stepped outside the pub together, paintings in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a Paint Nite a couple months ago, and it was SO FUN, and then when I saw [this](http://www.sheknows.com/love-and-sex/articles/1019635/this-guy-proposed-to-his-girlfriend-with-a-painting), I knew I had to work it in somehow.
> 
> Yay!


	12. Darcy is good at keeping his cool (well, except for this one time...)

It hadn’t been easy.

Since the announcement of their engagement, there hadn’t been a moment’s peace. For Lizzie it meant the neverending back-and-forth between her mother and Aunt Catherine, the two of them bickering about every detail from the invitations to the flowers to monogrammed linen - without really giving Lizzie a chance to voice her opinion on any of it. And Lizzie hated not being able to voice her opinion.

For Darcy it meant seeing Lizzie stressed out and unhappy. And Darcy hated seeing Lizzie stressed out and unhappy. Darcy refused to be one of those men who left all the responsibility of wedding planning to the bride, so he was there with her for every appointment, every sampling, every excursion (except where her dress was concerned), and through it all, his rock-steady temperament was what kept Lizzie from going over the edge.

“Let’s just elope. Can we elope? I’ll even let you charter us a private jet,” Lizzie said one evening after he had walked through the door. Darcy didn’t even need her to explain what had happened that day, because Aunt Catherine had rung him up at work and complained for nearly an hour. Darcy wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face against his chest.

“I would absolutely be fine with that,” he said seriously, “except I know that that’s not what you really want.”

“I know,” Lizzie said dolefully. “I would feel bad just slinking off and getting married without our loved ones there.” She kissed him suddenly, with a surprising amount of emotion. “And thank you for knowing me so well,” she said, smiling.

Darcy tucked his chin only a little bit, grinning. “It’s a good thing you’re marrying me, then,” he teased.

If the wedding planning had been stressful, then the wedding day was definitely par for the course: the bouquets had gone missing, and then Mrs. Bennet had had a panic, and then the bouquets were found, but then Lydia’s shoes were missing, and then the wedding cake arrived with the wrong amount of fondant flowers (and Aunt Catherine had insisted on making her displeasure known, which caused more of a ruckus than if she’d just let the woman try to fix the mistake)...

Darcy was alone in the designated groom’s chamber at the church. Straightening his tie in the mirror, he could see a familiar, petite redhead enter the room behind him, opening and shutting the door silently.

She was barefoot and dressed in a silk robe. Her face was still bare, her hair hanging simply to her shoulders as it always did. Even so, the sight of the woman he loved was always a punch in the gut in the best possible way. The tightness in his chest that he got every time he looked at her or even thought of her was something he knew he would never take for granted.

He turned just as tiny arms wrapped around his waist, sliding smoothly under his open jacket.

“Is it still too late to elope?” Lizzie asked, resting her forehead gingerly against his freshly pressed shirt.

He chuckled softly. “It isn’t, but I don’t think we could get out of here without anyone noticing.”

Lizzie exhaled forcefully, her shoulders feeling knotted under his hands.

He tilted her chin up gently as he leaned down. He could feel her sigh against his lips as they kissed, the tension leaving her small frame. Her kisses more forceful, more urgent. Her hands slid up his chest, deftly maneuvering his jacket off his shoulders until he gently held her wrists, stopping her from going any further.

“Let’s save this for later, Miss Bennet,” he teased.

Lizzie pouted. “But I don’t want to,” she whined playfully, pulling gently on his tie until her lips could reach his neck.

For a moment Darcy was all too happy to indulge her, but when he found himself pulling on the knotted silk around her waist, he forced himself to stop. “No. Can’t,” he groaned.

Lizzie grinned devilishly. She loved being the one who could push his boundaries. “But don’t you want to see what’s under this robe?” she whispered, her hands lingering teasingly at the opening.

He had to admit, he was tempted. “We can’t. We’re supposed to be getting married soon,” he reminded her. “In a couple hours, in fact.”

She kissed him again, slowly and sensually. “Suit yourself,” she said slinking towards the door. “You’re always so good at keeping your cool,” she teased. “I admire that in a husband.”

Darcy grinned at her last sentence. “So what _is_ under that robe?” he asked, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

“Let’s save this for later, Mr. Darcy.” She winked at him before closing the door behind her.

  
  


The hour drew near, and before he knew it, he was standing alone in front of a large congregation.

He was feeling… perfectly calm. In regards to the wedding, it was useless to worry at that point - they had planned and planned and planned, and if anything were to go wrong, it would be a total accident as opposed to a fault in their planning. In regards to the marriage… well, he felt as he did as a boy waking up on Christmas morning, except better. This gift he was about to receive - a lifetime with the most amazing woman he had ever known and ever had the fortune to love - was something he looked forward to with a happiness that thrummed throughout his body.

Darcy kept his cool, though his only sadness was that his parents weren’t there to witness the day. (But in a way they were, he thought, as he watched his sister being escorted up the aisle, lovely in her bridesmaid’s dress.)

He kept his cool as he watched Lydia, and Charlotte, and then Jane, glowing on the arm of Bing, march towards the altar and take their places.

He kept his cool as the music changed, and everyone stood up and turned around, waiting for the bride to appear.

He kept his cool as he too looked towards the back of the church, time slowing down as he glimpsed first the toes of her shoes, peeking out from under her dress as she stepped forward.

He kept his cool as he saw her smile at her father, who patted her hand on his arm, as the strains of the bridal march began to sound and crowd sighed softly. He kept his cool even as he took in how lovely she was, a vision in her gown, her hair pinned back in soft, romantic curls.

He kept his cool through all of this… until Lizzie’s eyes met his.

And then the emotion he’d been holding in check for what seemed like years came welling up, and for a moment he couldn’t even breathe. He felt an errant tear threatening to escape, but he was so unabashedly happy that he didn’t even care, as he watched the love of his life float towards him, their gaze never breaking.

It took an eternity, but finally she was there, and for a second they stood in silence, gazing in awe at each other, both of them too overwhelmed with happiness to even turn and face the minister at first. Darcy distantly heard the room’s collective sigh as both he and Lizzie wiped the tiny tears of happiness away from each other’s cheeks - apparently he _had_ started to cry.

“You okay?” she whispered.

“Never better,” he replied, taking her hand as the minister began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
